


First word

by Sunflowerhanamaru



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 17:44:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14141211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunflowerhanamaru/pseuds/Sunflowerhanamaru
Summary: There are two things Chika can't control: heat waves and feelings. She has to deal with both.





	First word

It’s a summer afternoon, bone-crushing heat a tight embrace around Chika’s body.  
Some people would tell you you get used to it: to those mellow hours dripping slow slow slow merging into each other, to the never-ending days becoming never-ending nights, to the sticky quality of the air and of the sand and of the sea: Chika knows better than to believe it. 

So she lays there, bones crushed and skin pink from sunburns on the floor of Kanan’s bedroom. The windows are wide open: the windows are always open in Kanan’s room because the confined air makes her skin crawl (“I need to feel the marine breeze on me always.” She likes to say, and that is another thing Chika knows better than to argue about.) and usually Chika doesn’t care that much but today is a day for bone-crushing feelings and heart-breaking heat and today Chika _cares_.

Feelings, thinks Chika, feelings aren’t that different from the heat: something you think you can control, something that’s here whether you want it or not. Something that’s bearable as long as you don’t notice it. Feelings, not unlike heat waves, take you by surprise and then cling to your skin until you can’t do anything but lay there and think about them.

“Here,” Says Kanan, balancing a freezing cold bowl on Chika’s bare belly. Chika yelps and avoids knocking it on the ground in extremis. “Your mikan shaved ice. Are you alright? It’s been a while since you last paid me a visit.”

Kanan sits against the farthest wall, her own ice cream in hand. The room feels hotter since she walked in and Chika doesn’t know if it’s a consequence of the combined heat of two bodies in the same room or just her own brain running wild. An ice cold droplet from the bowl falls on Chika’s skin. Kanan’s still studying her.

The first word is always the most difficult one, Chika knows that. The rest of the sentence will follow closely, stumbling back behind the first word and no time left for regret. The first word, though, the first word is always an obstacle and it always takes too much time to usher it. Kanan seems to know that (Her lemon ice cream half eaten, gaze unfocused but directed toward the sea.) and she doesn’t press further. Kanan knows Chika like she knows the sea, like she knows heat waves and feelings and feeling waves. She licks at her spoon, eyes on the sea like always while Chika repeats in her head the question she had prepared for days before coming over.

“Hey,” She says, and here’s the first word. “Kanan-chan. Do you think I’m in love with Riko?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy but fragile. Chika can see it above her head, as clearly as if she was a comic’s character, and she thinks maybe she could grab it if she reached out, grab it and swallow it back in the secrecy of her throat. 

“I don’t know Chika-chan,” Answers Kanan, gentle. “What do you think?”

“Well,” Chika shivers despite the heat. “I don’t know. It’s not like I have much experience with those things.” 

‘It’s not like I have much experience with _love_ ,’ she wants to say. It’s not like she knows how to quantify it, how to define it. She’s frustrated with movies and books and encyclopedias and all those things that tells her she should know but never gives her an answer. Chika is an impulsive person, sure, but she sometimes feels that need to know (to understand, to get an answer, to get someone to explain those things to her.) before she acts and makes a fool of herself.  
And more importantly: Chika could make a fool of herself if it was all about herself but it’s not: it’s about Riko, too, Riko who managed to become such an important part of her life in so little time, and she can’t risk _Riko_ without being sure.

“What’s love, Kanan-chan?”

Kanan sucks on her spoon, her ice cream long finished. Chika’s is entirely melted in its little bowl but neither of them comment on it. Chika dips her finger on the mikan-flavored water, watches it glitter on her nail.

“Love is…” Kanan hesitates. “I guess… Love is when you want to be sure even if you know you can’t.”

And Chika… Chika’s not sure of anything, she’s the most unsure she’s ever been in her life but she knows somehow in the year they’ve known each other Riko has become the most stable feature in Chika’s every days.  
She knows she’s been talking to Riko every day since they met, not a morning without a quick hi over the balcony, not a day apart without a text or a call.  
Chika doesn’t know what love is but she knows Riko is her favorite person, she knows she wants to talk to Riko every day. She doesn’t know if it will be true always but she knows she doesn’t want a future when it’s not true anymore. She knows she wants to kiss Riko (She has known that for a while, the knowledge stocked in a separate part of her brain because it’s not rational and wanting to kiss isn’t always wanting to love.), she knows she wants to hold her hand. She wants to be close to Riko, closer. The closest.  
Chika doesn’t know what love is but she knows Riko is the most important person in her life, and she knows she doesn’t want another person to take that place, ever.

“I think you know,” Says Kanan. “I think you know what love is, Chika-chan.”

Chika knows.

 

It’s a summer afternoon, bone-crushing heat hugging Chika like a second skin. Riko is laying next to Chika on the floor of her bedroom and she hasn’t said anything for the last ten minutes or so.  
Their heads are close and it’s not very smart because it’s so hot, it’s too hot for two bodies to be almost touching. Chika thinks about touching Riko, meddling heat and sticky skins clinging to each other and she feels almost cold suddenly, shivering despite herself.  
Riko glances, a quick flickering of the eyes in Chika’s direction and Chika glances too, at Riko’s long lashes and her glowing skin (Tanned slightly by the sun, freckles almost invisible but still there, no sunburn because she’s not Chika and she never forgets sunblocks.) and she _knows_.

The first word, Chika knows, the first word is always the hardest one: the other will stumble back, obedient sheeps following the leader of the pack. She looks back at the ceiling.

“Hey,” She says. The first word is always the most difficult. “Hey, Riko-chan. I’m in love with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! A short little thing I wrote in one sitting. I hope it was at least a little entertaining! Don't hesitate to leave a comment or to come and talk to me on [my blog!](https://sunflowerhanamaru.tumblr.com/)


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